


Distractions

by sarabethloves



Category: Bleach
Genre: Cooking Leads to Sex, F/M, Oneshot, Shameless Smut, countertop sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:18:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7954681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarabethloves/pseuds/sarabethloves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo cooks Rukia dinner, but it doesn’t take her long to get…distracted</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

Rukia’s not sure how things got to where they are now. One minute she’s walking into the kitchen to see what Ichigo was cooking the next she’s on the counter, her dress hiked up to her hips and her legs wrapped around his.

It’s all his fault, she decides, as his mouth descends on the creamy flesh of her neck, placing open-mouthed kisses along the length of it. She doesn’t know what it is about Ichigo Kurosaki but for some unknown, god-forsaken reason, everything that man does is downright sexy. All he was doing was cooking dinner and yet, somehow, she couldn’t help the small flush that arose on her cheeks or the tingling sensation she felt in her lower body at the way his hands moved, so precise and delicate, yet strong. Those were the same hands that had taken down some of the worst enemies the Soul Society had ever faced, had ripped into the flesh of a thousand hollows, and had torn asunder countless enemies.

They were also the same hands that had run the length of her body with urgent need, intent on exploring every curve and crevice she had to offer. They were the hands that had grasped her tightly, had pushed her against the wall, and had brought her to the highest of pleasures.

All he was doing was cutting vegetables and yet she wanted nothing more than for him to put those strong and gentle hands of his to good use.

She had tried to remain coy and impassive, but he knew she was admiring him and she knew it as well. A small, yet confident, smirk found its way on his face as she knew he was reveling in her heated gaze. In any normal situation, she would’ve been annoyed, but she couldn’t really think straight as she imagined his hands running up underneath her shirt, flicking across her hardened nipples.

He had continued his meticulous chopping, his hands slicing through carrots, cucumbers, and a bell pepper. She began to become frustrated as he worked. The bastard was purposefully ignoring her. When he’d set down his knife and opened the oven door to check on the chicken breasts, Rukia decided she couldn’t just sit and watch anymore. She had to take some action.

She circled the kitchen island she had been standing behind and walked up to where Ichigo was stirring the pasta boiling away on the stovetop. Discreetly, though she knew he was aware of her every step, she walked up behind him and circled her arms around his waist, pressing her nose into his shirt and smelling his heady scent.

Ichigo continued working away at the food, his smirk growing larger. “Need something?” he’d asked, almost sarcastically.

In an effort to move things along, Rukia had let a low, almost guttural, moan escape her lips. “You,” she replied. It was lame, and they both knew it, but Rukia was getting far too heated to care much for perfecting her dirty talk. She wanted him inside of her. She wanted his hands to stop chopping vegetables and start rubbing insistently against her breasts, travel further down her body, and touch that one spot of her core that he just knew would make her scream.

Ichigo’s ever-present smirk grew wider. “What about the food?” he asked.

“I think you can afford to take a bit of a break,” Rukia replied as her hands started traveling further south down his body. Immediately, Ichigo placed the hand that wasn’t busy stirring on hers, effectively stopping her motions. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at that and let out a disgruntled noise. She knew what was going to come next.

“I can’t take a break when food is cooking. Let’s just wait until later. I thought you were starving,” Ichigo reminded her, acting as the voice of reason for once in their relationship. She had insisted on him cooking for her earlier, as he turned out to be a much better cook than she was and she wanted something better than the poorly cooked ramen she usually made.

But that was before she realized how sexy Ichigo Kurosaki looked when he cooked. Her appetite had shifted from food to sex as her longtime boyfriend worked so domestically to prepare her meal. At this point she didn’t care if the pasta boiled over and the chicken burned in the oven, she needed him and she needed him now.

“I don’t care about that,” Rukia told him, her insistent voice full of desire. She didn’t want to resort to pleading, but if she had to she would. She freed one of her hands from where he had them trapped across his midsection and again began to trail it lower, playing with the band of his jeans.

Though Ichigo was clearly trying to play the cool and collected man, she couldn’t help a smirk of her own when his breath hitched, almost imperceptibly, as her hand continued its slow trek inside his pants.

“Rukia,” he said, his voice more strained than it had been before as he tried to grasp at the last bit of self-control he had.

Fortunately for Rukia, she knew exactly what to say to make him kiss his restraint goodnight and goodbye.

“Fuck the food,” she said as her hand lowered just enough to be able to rub insistently against his prominent erection barely contained within his boxers. “I need you inside of me, right now.”

That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Immediately, Ichigo grabbed Rukia’s hand and pulled it out of his pants, earning an indignant huff from her as she originally thought he was trying to stop her again. But, when he swiveled around and she noticed his amber eyes had turned a dark, heady chocolate color, a sure sign of his desire, she realized what his intentions were.

Before she could say another word, he had grabbed her, turned her around, and planted her on the kitchen island, her ass dangerously close to the burner still firing away as the pasta boiled, undisturbed. They both didn’t seem to care, however, as Ichigo’s lips immediately found Rukia’s and his hands found their usual spot on her hips, as if they belonged there.

Almost immediately a moan escaped Rukia’s lips, giving Ichigo the access to invade her mouth with his tongue. Rukia’s hands gripped Ichigo’s loose t-shirt as if her life depended on it. She continued to make delicious sounds at her boyfriend’s wandering hands as they found their way underneath her shirt and up her torso. Their lips continued to meld and mold against each other as the temperature in the room seemed to skyrocket, and it had nothing to do with the boiling food.

Ichigo practically ripped Rukia’s shirt off of her, breaking their kiss to harshly pull the garment over her head and toss it somewhere across the room (she’d look for it later). His lips, instead of returning to her own, found her neck and he immediately began to suck on her milk-white skin, his tongue occasionally flickering out of his mouth. She knew he’d leave a noticeable mark there, as he often did, but wearing turtlenecks for the next few days was worth the sensations he was giving her.

She moaned his name aloud as her hand weaved its way inside his unruly orange hair. That seemed to light an even bigger fire inside of him as he, while still practically latched to her neck, lifted her skirt up to her hips and wasted no time in yanking her underwear down her legs, letting the garment fall unceremoniously to the floor.

Knowing that he had easier access now, he spread her legs and let her wrap them around his waist. Her hands started to do some wandering of their own as she trailed her way down his unfortunately still clothed torso (she didn’t even have enough brainpower to amend that situation without his help) and started to rub insistently against his cock through his jeans.

Ichigo, not one to be outdone by anyone, started kissing a trail down Rukia’s chest until he reached the valley between her breasts. He reached around and unhooked her bra like a pro (ironic considering how much trouble he’d had doing that the first few times they’d been together) and tossed the lacy piece of clothing away in the same direction he had thrown her shirt. He wasted no time in descending upon her breasts, sucking on one and palming the other. Rukia’s mouth opened, but no noise escaped as the pleasure shot through her body. At some point through the sexual haze, she ended up horizontal across the countertop, her hand leaving its place on his still tightly-contained cock and finding its way into his hair again.

Seeing that she was distracted (and thoroughly enjoying her completely lost-to-the-world looks of ecstasy) Ichigo let one of his hands softly glide against the inside of her thigh, slowly making its way toward her core, teasing her as he went. His tongue continued to circle around her nipple as his hand eventually found the bed of black curls at her center, already moistened by their heated interactions. He started to tease her entrance with his fingers and then began to slide them, first one, then two, inside of her tight passage. Her moans grew louder as he started pumping his fingers in and out of her. She was practically writhing on the counter and against his hand and he watched her, completely mesmerized.

Ichigo diligently worked, finally putting those strong, yet delicate hands of his to good use. Rukia became blinded by the pleasure as his fingers sawed in and out of her. The familiar coiling feeling of her orgasm crept along her body and her breathing became shallower and shallower. Instinctively, she spread her legs farther and gripped the orange locks on Ichigo’s head harder, too far gone to care about anything else but his mouth on her breasts and his fingers inside her.

It didn’t take long for the coiling feeling to finally spring out within her, the pleasure bursting forth. She let out one last pleading gasp as her orgasm completely overtook her.

She came down from her high in a foggy haze, immediately meeting her boyfriend’s self-satisfied smirk. He looked pretty damned pleased with himself and she didn’t really blame him considering she was spread out naked on top of their kitchen countertop struggling to take in breaths.

She met his goofy expression with a roll of her eyes and a smile. He smiled back and reached down to pull her up into a sitting position. For the first time since they started their little escapade, he looked over at the food cooking and sighed. He switched off the stovetop burners and turned back toward his disheveled girlfriend.

“Pretty sure the pasta is overcooked now. Was it worth it?” he asked, only semi-seriously.

“Hell yeah,” she answered breathlessly.

“Good,” he replied with a boyish grin as he again let his arms fall to her now naked waist, her legs instinctively wrapping around him once more. “Because we’re not done.”

His mouth descended on hers and she met him with a fervor she hadn’t felt in a long time. Who knew making dinner would bring out this side of them?

They continued practically devouring each other whole, deciding that this was a much better version of dinner than the one Ichigo had attempted to make. Rukia’s hands ran up his chest and she made an insistent grunting sound that only went as far as his mouth at the fact that he was still fully clothed. Using whatever remaining brainpower she had, she tugged up the loose cotton shirt and was happy when Ichigo helped her get it the rest of the way up his torso and over his head.

Once it was properly discarded (a small part in the back of her mind hoped none of their flying clothing had landed close to any open flames), she wasted no time in running her hands up and down his smooth and defined chest. Her mouth descended on one of his nipples in much the same way as he had to hers, causing moans of pleasure to be elicited from his mouth.

While Rukia was busy, Ichigo took it upon himself to get his throbbing erection free from his pants. When she noticed what he was doing, Rukia smirked and wasted no time in letting one of her hands find his newly freed cock. She began to slowly pump him, relishing in the even headier grunts and moans coming from him.

Their eyes met and an unspoken message passed between them. They couldn’t waste any more time. They needed each other more than someone wandering through the desert needs water. Rukia scooted up on the counter to position herself better, ready to finally receive the pleasure only Ichigo could give her.

One of Ichigo’s hands found Rukia’s cheek, lovingly stroking it so she would look him right in the eye as he slowly entered her. Their mouths met as he buried his cock inside her, swallowing both their moans. He stilled inside her, letting them both enjoy the feeling of being complete for just a moment before he was thrusting inside her with unmatched speed and ferocity.

The kitchen filled with the sound of skin meeting skin and pleasured moaning. The walls practically echoed with the noises coming from the two lovers locked in ecstasy. No matter how many times they had sex, being with Ichigo was like nothing Rukia had ever experienced. Sure, he was well-endowed (hard for him not to be, all things considered), but it was so much more than that. The feeling of being with someone she loved and trusted completely couldn’t be matched by any of her previous partners. Ichigo was everything to her, mind, body, and soul.

The stirring feeling of a returning orgasm dwelled up within Rukia as Ichigo practically sawed in and out of her body, his mouth whispering sweet nothings in her ear while his lower body worked a ferocious pace. She could tell he was losing himself to the pleasure in much the same she was. She placed her hand on his cheek like he had earlier so their eyes met as their climaxes overtook both their senses. They almost always tried to come together, which made sense considering how everything else they did was done with the other in mind.

Just as the mind-numbing pleasure was beginning to settle down into a content, full feeling within both of them, a loud, abrupt screeching noise sounded throughout the kitchen. Begrudingly, Ichigo turned his head to where a thin trail of smoke was escaping the oven where the once pristine chicken breasts were no doubt burning.

Ichigo sighed and turned back toward Rukia, who was still breathing as heavily as he was, relishing in the post-orgasmic high. He raised an eyebrow and she chuckled.

“Let them burn,” was her response.

Ichigo smiled, turned off the oven, and picked up his tiny girlfriend before rushing them both up the stairs for round two. He began to wonder if they’d ever make a decent meal before screwing each other on the nearest hard surface.

After tonight, they were 0-3. 


End file.
